


Searching for Warmth

by hideeho



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: 3x15 coda, Dealing With Trauma, Eddie needs a hug, First Kiss, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Spoilers for 3x15, Supportive Buck, coming together, he's trying his best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23851243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hideeho/pseuds/hideeho
Summary: After a lifetime of learning that requests for help would be used against him, Eddie struggles to learn a different lesson. Buck is there to help.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 43
Kudos: 388





	Searching for Warmth

Eddie has always hated the cold. If it weren’t for his over reliance on pre-made meals he’d avoid the frozen section of the grocery store altogether. The cold makes him think of being trapped on the side of the road during a snowstorm on a family trip, his parents screaming at each other as he and his sisters sat shivering and scared in the back. It makes him think of cold Afghan nights in the desert, his jaw aching from clenching his teeth to keep them from chattering. Makes the ghost of metal pulled from his flesh burn under his skin.

The cold is a lonely feeling; familiar and bitter.

It has been three days since he nearly died. Should have died, if he’s honest to himself. Three days and he can’t seem to stop shivering. The doctors ruled out hypothermia. The thermometer proved each time he had a normal temperature, even if he couldn’t seem to stop himself from making sure. The water of the well had soaked through his skin and turned his bones to ice.

He wants to be warm again, maybe then it will really sink in that he’s still alive.

“Dude, are you sick?”

Before Eddie can reply Buck is by his side in the bathroom, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead.

“Buck, I’ve told you, I’m fine.”

“You’ve checked your temperature like five times today alone. You clearly don’t feel well. Is it your head? Your stomach? We should take you to the doctor. We don’t know what all was in that well water. I’ve been looking up the different kinds of bacteria that can be lingering in unused wells and there is a particularly nasty flesh-eating—”

 _"Buck_ ,” Eddie exclaims, bewildered amusement undercutting his firm tone. He places a large hand on each one of the younger man’s shoulders to stop him mid-spiral. “I’m fine. Feeling a bit cold is all.”

Less so with Buck’s body heat under his palms. Buck always seems to run hot. He’d think he was the one with the fever if he wasn’t so used to it by now.

“Are you sure? Because, I—” Buck stops mid-sentence from the look on Eddie’s face. His expression turning sheepish as he scratches the side of his head. “I’m hovering again, aren’t I?”

He was, as if Buck was also trying to convince himself he had actually survived, but Eddie didn’t mind. In truth, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken care of him. He came back from Afghanistan with three new scars as if nothing happened, even as the nightmares robbed him of the little sleep his schedule allowed for. He worked through sickness and pain because that was what was needed of him. He was so accustomed to being the strong steady one; carrying on without complaint even when he was running on empty and had nothing left to give. He had learned long ago that asking for help was only further exposing his shortcomings so they could be used against him.

Buck was different. He gave without judgment and never held it against him. Eddie still found it hard to trust, even if his gut told him this time it would be okay.

“You’re fine,” Eddie says, wrapping an arm around Buck’s shoulders and leading them back to the kitchen. He never felt cold with Buck by his side. “Chris is asleep. You know you don’t have to stay here, the couch is not that comfortable.”

“I don’t mind,” Buck says softly, going to the refrigerator to grab himself a beer, hesitating before twisting off the cap. “Unless you want me to go?”

Buck looks small all at once, ready for the rejection even as the hope lingers in his eyes. Eddie wants to shake him, to tell him to steel his face so people can’t take advantage of his vulnerability. But that would make Buck more like Eddie and that’s the last thing he wants for him. Buck’s openness is his strength and Eddie knows he could learn a lot from him. Wants to learn from him.

“I don’t want you to go,” he admits, leaning back against the counter to look at the other man. “I appreciate your help. With me. With Christopher. It’s good for him to know the kitchen can actually be used for cooking. You’re good with him.”

“What, like it’s hard?”

“It can be,” Eddie replies, sharper than he intends. He closes his eyes at Buck’s confused look, willing him to move on and knowing in true Buck fashion that he won’t. “It was for me,” he admits after a time, turning away from Buck to look at the tiled backsplash in front of him. “It still is sometimes. I see you with him and it’s hard not to be jealous. Don't take that for granted, Buck. Your way with kids is something to be admired. Something I admire. You’re so natural with him, but it wasn’t like that for me. I got back from Afghanistan and I couldn’t even give him a drink without my mother thinking I was trying to kill him.”

“Eddie, I’m sure that’s not—”

“It is,” he says bluntly, shivering against the cold that isn’t there. His thumb pressing deeply against the scar on his wrist where metal tore through flesh. He knows the pain he suddenly feels there is all mental, but it doesn’t make it feel any less real.

“They wanted to keep Christopher,” he says, speaking a truth out loud he had been too ashamed to confide about with anyone. “To take Christopher away from me. For his own good, because I couldn’t take care of him. Because he deserved better than me,” he bites, voice strained with the emotion lodged in his throat. Buck is uncharacteristically quiet behind him and he can’t bear to look at him. He doesn’t want to see the disappointment he always knew would eventually come.

“I tried, Buck. I swear I tried. I know it wasn’t enough. I know I failed him, but I swear to you I didn’t mean to.” He had done the math. He could work three jobs to make less pay and half the benefits from being in the military. Only he ended up taking those jobs anyway. He went about things wrong, he knows that, but he was trying. That’s what he thought he was supposed to do. What his father had done, the same man who openly bragged about being so busy working he missed the birth of all three of his children.

Only when it was Eddie’s turn to provide his parents held it against him. When he was gone he was failing him. When he got back he wasn’t any better. Asking for help to learn the things he had been gone for had been used as ammunition against him, piercing more deeply than any AK-47.

His parents were happy to boast about their Silver Star son, but quick to dismiss the person under the medal. A good soldier, a bad father. And who would know him better than family?

Eddie jumped at the feel of Buck’s arms sliding around his waist, the feel of his chin heavy against his shoulder. He didn’t realize he was shaking until Buck was pressed solid and sturdy against him.

“Eddie, whatever is going on in that head of yours you’re wrong. You’re an amazing father. That boy loves you.”

“I wasn’t there for him.”

“You’re here now. You’ve been here. My parents were there every day of my life growing up, but that doesn’t mean they were any good,” Buck insists, pressing against his back like a human blanket. “I would have given anything to have one of my parents love me half as much as you love Christopher. He knows you love him. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, only him, and you’re that boy’s entire world.”

He shudders against Buck, holding his arms against him with his own. “When I was down there I thought— I didn’t want to break my promise. I didn't want to let him down again,” he says, voice breaking.

“You didn’t, Eddie. You’re here and you’re safe. You fought to get back to him,” Buck urges, his voice thick.

“But if I hadn’t.”

“You did,” Buck snaps, moving to turn Eddie to finally face him. They’re close. Closer than perhaps two friends should stand in a friendship where personal space was already questionable. Close enough that all Eddie can feel is the heat of his body calling him to step forward and get lost in it. “You came back, because you’re not allowed to go anywhere. He needs you. We need you. _I_ need you.”

“Buck…”

“I’m serious, Eddie. When the lightning struck and I realized—”

Fuck. He had meant to talk to Buck about what happened, but he had been so wrapped up in himself once again. He keeps letting people down, even now. “Shit, Buck, I should have asked you about it sooner. I heard what happened with the rig. I know seeing that vehicle flip over must have brought back memories of the bombing. I mean, of course it did. How are you? Are you okay?”

“Wait. What,” Buck begins, brow furrowing in confusion. “No. I mean, no, Eddie, you don’t get it. I didn’t have time to think about that or anything else. The hole was caved in and you were gone. Just _gone_. For the second time I turned my back for a _moment_ to help someone else and when I looked back a Diaz was gone. Lost. And I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“Buck, you fought for us. You never gave up, even when no one could have blamed you for doing so. Besides, we keep popping back up again.”

Buck lets out a sharp laugh before crumpling before him. Eddie’s arms are around him in a second, holding him up as he buries his head against his neck. “I thought I lost you. Thought you had just slipped in my fingers. That you died in the dark all alone because I couldn’t get to you.”

“I didn’t.”

“You _could_ have.”

“I know. I know,” Eddie says, still trying to come to terms with it himself. “You know what kept me going? Christopher. And you. And the team. My family. My _real_ family. The one that matters most to me. Because you’re my family, Buck. I love you, brother.”

Buck stiffens against him for reasons Eddie can’t understand. Had he said something wrong?

“What if I don’t want you to love me like a brother?” Buck squares his shoulders like he’s getting ready for a fight, even if he shifts side to side like he’s getting ready to flee. Eddie knows he’s missing something, but his brain isn’t connecting the pieces.

“I don’t...Buck, I don’t understand. You don’t want to be my family?” Eddie hardens his expression to mask the hurt he feels, a skill perfected long ago. 

“Of _course_ I want to be your family," Buck sighs, suddenly agitated and clearly exhausted with him. "I don’t want to be your your fucking brother.”

Before Eddie can question him further Buck’s hand is on his hip and he's licking his lips and he really is such an oblivious idiot. 

"You know," Eddie starts, eyes suddenly glued the plump lower lip in front of him. "I have sisters. I don't really need a brother." 

Eddie isn’t sure who moves first, only that Buck has him pinned against the counter, his tongue pressing hot and desperate against his lips. They should talk about this, they should really talk about this, but Buck grabs underneath his thighs and suddenly he is sitting on the counter, Buck’s waist between his thighs. He has never been one for talking and like hell he’ll start now.

He was alive, he was safe and for the first time in three days he was warm. The rest could wait until tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> THE EDDISSANCE IS HERE! There have been so many amazing codas, but I couldn't help but throw one more into the mix. 
> 
> All kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.


End file.
